Shlomo Bentin died in a traffic accident on July 13th 2012. Shlomo was an amazing man and had a great impact not only on psychological and brain science but also directly on the lives of so many people. He had a unique passion for life and for scientific discovery. He was a strong man with a soft heart and his exuberant presence was always felt and admired.

This blog is a place where people can share their experiences and memories of Shlomo. He was an extremely lively man who cherished his family, friends, work and academic accomplishments and we hope this blog will help to celebrate his life as he always did. To contribute, please send your text to Ani Flevaris and Ayelet Landau directly or at remembering.shlomo[at] gmail.com

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Even a month after his untimely death, I have tears in my eyes as I write this. I am so proud to have known such a great man. Every word I read in this blog is true. It was Shlomo who introduced me to my advisor Leon, and I was privileged to work in his "sister lab", and have him on my PhD committee. When I think of Shlomo, so many images come to mind: Shlomo wearing a suit and tie when giving lectures (in Israel this is extremely rare), Shlomo dancing with me at a party in Bodrum, Turkey at ICON X 2008, Shlomo telling me about his latest ski trip, Shlomo calling me on Skype to let me know he managed to discover how to do something in Analyzer 2 without my help, Shlomo telling me I need to revise my entire PhD plan (wisely, of course), Shlomo asking me to slow down when I speak before I even open my mouth, Shlomo who loved all the latest technologies, Shlomo's smile, Shlomo's laugh, Shlomo who would ask my advice, Shlomo's words of encouragement, Shlomo who was so many people's mentor, an inspiration to everyone. Shlomo who you could talk to about almost anything. Shlomo who had a temper but always listened to the other side. Shlomo who you felt admired you like you admired him. That was his greatness. It is hard to express just how someone touches your life, I like to look at the photos I have of Shlomo in many of our lab's events and remember all the things I loved about Shlomo. In the past year, every time my 3-year old spoke in rhyme, I thought of Shlomo, who taught us word games are so important for learning later how to read. I recall the saga he had with the Israeli ministry of Education and smile knowing he had the satisfaction of knowing he was right, and today everybody knows he was.

Shlomo, I'm so sorry that you are no longer here, thank you for everything, and I hope to be more like you.

Monday, August 6, 2012

I heard the terrible news
about Shlomo from a friend (Amir), when I was in the midst of preparation for
my son's Bar-Mitzvah. Beyond the initial shock and disbelief, I was filled,
like so many others, with deep sorrow.

I have read through so many
of the posts written about Shlomo and I can comfortably agree and relate to so
many of them. I worked for Shlomo when his lab was at its early stages, before
it became an empire. Like many others, during the time I worked with Shlomo I
have had the pleasure, and also at times the difficulty, to experience his
perfectionism, his attention to details and his thoroughness. Trust me, facing
Shlomo after stuffing up the connection on the EEG recording equipment, was not
an easy task.

I wanted thought, to share
with everyone, one aspect of Shlomo that I have had the honour to experience
personally. Shlomo was not someone to go unnoticed (yes, it is an
understatement), but I also believe that many of his personality aspects
derived from his great integrity. When I was working on my masters in cognitive
psychology, something I never completed despite Shlomo's genuine and caring
protests, I conducted with him several experiments on face perception. These
experiments, were eventually published as articles in renown professional
magazines. Shlomo, despite the fact that he has put a massive amount of work
and effort in this research, has insisted and ensured that my name is
mentioned/published before his. I still recall the discussion we had about
that, and how adamant he was that my name should appear before his. He
explained himself calmly, without a single shroud of arrogance and in a very
fatherly way, why he truly believed this is the way it should be. I was amazed
and appreciative of this, to me this was another indication on how passionate
he was about science and research and not the titles or "stripes"
that came with being a great researcher.

I can easily sum my feelings
towards Shlomo in one word, pride! I am proud to have been his student, I am
proud to have been able to work for Shlomo and most of all, I am proud to have
known Shlomo.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Shlomo was one of a kind. I can't find the words to
explain how much he meant to me.

He was my mentor from the very start of my academic
life.

He taught the most interesting class I took in the BA, which
made me fall in love with the field of Neuropsychology, and join his lab as a
research assistant. From then on, I never left. I had the privilege of working
with Shlomo as lab manager, and under his guidance throughout my MA and PhD
studies.

I remember the first time I saw him come into the lab
with a new poster for a coming conference, probably one of hundreds he had
presented already. I remember thinking that I would never be so passionate
about my first poster, as he was about any one of his. I would keep being
astonished from his enthusiasm from every new project, new experiment, new
results, new ideas. And he was full of new ideas.

Shlomo's passion for science was contagious. He worked
day and night, and those who worked with him closely knew that the best time to
catch a good quiet talk with him was probably 2 am. This also meant you could
get 'urgent' phone calls from him, about a tough paragraph or about new
results, at any time of the day and every day of the week. But I had no problem
continuing getting these urgent calls from him 24/7 all my life.

Shlomo
taught his students to always doubt him and others, to argue but also to listen
and respect, to be open to alternative explanations, to keep looking for
answers but mostly to ask more questions.

Working in Shlomo's lab meant joining a big family – Shlomo
truly cared about his students, their wellbeing, their academic and personal
lives. Shlomo was the first and one of
the few who insisted his office should be inside the lab, so he would always be
a part of what was going on. Entering the lab you would encounter scientific
discussions mixed with personal stories, political arguments, frustrations and celebrations.

Throughout the years Shlomo became much more than an
academic mentor to me. We shared stories
about our lives and families, our frustrations from Israeli politics and our
thoughts about the future. We argued and laughed a lot. He knew when I was
going through tough times, and would find the kind words to comfort or help me.
I loved and valued how Shlomo never hid his thoughts and feelings, and made
sure to tell me exactly what he thought about my personal decisions – whether
in future career dilemmas, in clinical practice, or in choosing my partner
(luckily, on that we agreed… :) ).

Of course, working together did not end when leaving
the lab. I always enjoyed coming to work at Shlomo's house, joining him and
Miri for coffee, sometimes accompanied by their children or grandchildren.
Shlomo and Miri's house was so welcoming and warm, and I had plans to keep my
visits there long after my PhD was over.